


A Great Miracle Happened There

by theunicornandtheraven



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hanukkah, Post-Reichenbach, Reunion Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunicornandtheraven/pseuds/theunicornandtheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John celebrates the miracle of lights and gets another miracle of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Great Miracle Happened There

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a lot of Sherlock Christmas works, but none for Hanukkah. So I decided to write this.
> 
> Happy Holidays!

John didn’t know why he bothered with Hanukkah anymore. Holiday traditions felt empty without someone to share them with, even if that person was as grouchy as Sherlock.

He couldn’t let the holiday pass without at least lighting the menorah. Maybe celebrating one miracle would help bring about one more.

With the candles lit, he sat down to a lonely dinner of leftover Chinese and a cup of tea. Like always, he made an extra in case, you know…

He leapt out of his seat at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Mrs. Hudson had left to visit her sister, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. John abandoned his dinner to grab his gun.

He listened to the tread on the stairs grow louder and achingly familiar. _It’s not him. He’s dead. Wishful thinking will only make it hurt more._ His arms already strained from holding up the gun and his lack of practice.

With a click of metal on metal, the visitor unlocked the door. John’s fingers brushed the trigger guard.

The door opened. He stood in the entranceway, wearing the same coat and scarf he’d died in. He’d cut and died his hair, and the angles of his face had sharpened. He seemed paler, more ragged.

“John.”

He sank to his knees and cried at the sound of his friend’s voice. Tears flowed. Sherlock kneeled and cried with him. They clutched each other, overcome.

John calmed down, stood up, and put the safety on the gun. “I…er…I made you tea. It’s in the kitchen, and it’s probably still warm,” he said.

He stowed the gun in its drawer and joined Sherlock at the kitchen table. They had three years’ worth of questions to answer and issues to discuss. The conversation ended long after the candles burned down.

At John’s insistence, Sherlock stayed with him as he fell asleep. He couldn’t let his flatmate out of his sight. Not yet. God might change his mind and take Sherlock back.

Sherlock listened to John snore and turned John’s dreidel around in his palm. He ran a finger over the letters.

_Nes gadol haya sham._

A great miracle happened there.


End file.
